


Domů

by Mira



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-05
Updated: 2009-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:53:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Radek felt as though someone had kicked him in the chest; he couldn't breathe with shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domů

**Author's Note:**

> For [Ciderpress](http://ciderpress.livejournal.com), who asked for _Moar Zlinky!_

Radek sat at his favorite desk in the apartment, a writing desk made in Brno in the mid-nineteen thirties. He had had the center drawer replaced with a pull-out desk on which to rest his netbook. He had told his great-nephew Karel that he would prepare for the interview scheduled for later that day, but in fact he was admiring the depth and glow of the wood. He was ridiculously attached to this desk, so much so that he was a little ashamed, but it was beautiful.

This desk faced a window looking out over Central Park, today barely visible covered in heavy snow and low snow-laden clouds. Sometimes his eyes would rise to look out over the icy world beyond, but he preferred to study the comforts of his apartment: the heavy maroon draperies, the deeply painted walls, pictures of friends and family going back more than a hundred years, and of course, his writing desk. Where he should be writing, he reminded himself, and sighed.

He was not looking forward to this interview. The US government liked its secrets, all governments did, so that was nothing new. Radek had been able to do ground-breaking work with the information he'd brought back, but he'd been very careful about releasing it. He'd been concerned when a handsome young man wearing a US Air Force uniform had visited him, fearing that he'd let something out that the military or government hadn't wanted released, and so had been surprised when the young man had asked if Radek would do this interview. "It's because we're getting old," Radek surmised, watching the young man carefully. "No one cares anymore."

"It's because what you did was important and shouldn't be forgotten," the young man had corrected him, very politely.

"Forgotten because we are getting old and dying," Radek had sighed. The young man did not contradict him that time.

Months later, today was the day. A television crew was coming to set up his little library -- a producer had come last week and decided it was the most appropriate room for the interview -- and Radek was preparing himself both for the disarray and the questions. He didn't think much of Atlantis these days. He was too busy finalizing what he knew would be his last book, a collection of lectures he'd made over the years at various conferences. He had made his discoveries, had his adventures, lived his dreams. One final task -- this interview -- and he would return to chess and perhaps study painting. He had always admired Evan Lorne's skills.

He heard the doorbell ring and glanced at his watch -- the same cumbersome one he'd worn on Atlantis, given to him by the American military. It was far too early for the interviewer or her staff. He straightened his back and tried to focus on the task at hand.

A deep rumbling voice mixed with his great-nephew's. Not an argument, but someone being persistent. Then Karel came into the room, hesitating at the door.

" _Strejda_ ," he said, projecting his voice so Radek knew that Karel wanted the visitor to hear as well. "I know how busy you are, and that you have much to do to prepare for this afternoon, but a gentleman insists on seeing you."

Radek turned slowly, raising his eyebrows. "Does this gentleman have a name?" he asked.

Karel turned his head but the man slid past him and into the room. "Radek," he said.

Radek felt as though someone had kicked him in the chest; he couldn't breathe with shock.

" _Strejda_?" Karel asked, coming toward him, but Radek pushed himself up from the chair and held out his hand.

"It's all right," he said. "This is an old friend. An unexpected friend."

"Friend," Ronon said, and grinned, looking young again. He nearly raced to Radek and they embraced furiously, Ronon lifting him into the air and turning once. "My friend," he said, his voice husky.

Radek's eyes blurred. "Never," he said, but he couldn't speak anymore. Ronon hugged him tighter, resting his head on top of Radek's, who pushed his face into Ronon's damp coat, clutching at him. "Never," he whispered. "Not possible."

They laughed together then, both wiping their faces. "" _Strejda_?" Karel asked again.

"Oh, yes, Ronon, this is my great-nephew, Karel Makovský. Karel, this is an old, old friend, one I never thought to see again, Ronon Dex." He pounded Ronon's back and they laughed again. "Karel, please, would you bring tea? And something to eat, yes?"

"Yes," Ronon said firmly.

"How are you here?" Radek asked, leading Ronon to the sofa, pushing the plump decorative pillows to the floor. "Why are you here? Are you all right?"

They sat pressed against each other; Radek couldn't stop grinning up at Ronon, who grinned back. His hair, now mostly grey, was short and curly beneath a rainbow-hued knit cap; he wore a thick black turtleneck sweater and a long black wool overcoat, still spangled with glittering snowflakes melting into it. Radek touched Ronon's face, lightly tracing his jaw-line then his throat, resting his hand against the familiar tattoo. "It is you," he said finally.

Ronon squeezed him. "Good to see you," he said.

"Such a long time," Radek said, and Ronon nodded. Radek felt he could sit there all day just looking at him. His face, the smile crinkles around his eyes, the curl of his lips -- he looked like home to Radek.

Karel returned with a tray of tea, the kind Radek liked best because it reminded him of an Athosian blend he had been fond of, and a large assortment of cookies their housekeeper had made.

When they had sorted out the tea and Ronon had crunched through several cookies, Radek said, "Now tell me everything."

Ronon glanced at Karel. "Nephew? Not your son?"

Radek shook his head. "I never married. My sister's grandchildren are here in this country and look after me. Karel is my assistant."

"Physicist?"

"Yes, of course," Radek said. "As is his sister. But you?"

Ronon nodded, and pulled something out of an inner coat pocket; it looked like a cigarette lighter to Radek. He flicked the top of it but instead of a flame, a picture hovered above it -- a hologram, Radek realized. Of a young man with a remarkable resemblance to Ronon. "My son."

"Oh my," Radek said. "He is older than you when we met." Ronon nodded, looking happily at the image. "What's his name?"

"John."

They didn't say anything for a while, then Radek sighed deeply. "A good name. He is a good man, then."

"I think so."

"Your wife?"

Ronon shrugged. "We weren't together long. She didn't know --" he glanced again at Karel.

"I understand. Sometimes I thought I'd go mad because I had no one to share with. But eventually I found Evan, and then Laura found me. Have you seen them?"

"Not yet. Later we will." He flicked the cigarette lighter-hologram again. "Know anybody?"

Radek gasped. Smiling at him were two men his own age. Rodney had finally lost all his hair except for a fringe curling around his ears and neck, all grey. John's hair was longer and almost entirely white. Both wore beards, also grey. John had his left arm around Rodney's shoulder; Rodney's left hand was on John's chest, and they were laughing, their eyes creased, mouths open. Radek could almost hear them.

He wiped his eyes. "They are alive?"

Ronon nodded. "Oh yeah. Same as always."

Radek put his hands around Ronon's hand that held the hologram and brought it closer to his face. Behind John and Rodney he could see thickly forested country, vividly green, and the shadows crisp and sharp -- it had been a sunny day. Then Ronon fiddled with the lighter and the hologram swelled to more than twice its size.

Now Radek could see that John and Rodney stood in the center of a circle of people he had once known very well. There was Chuck, and Amelia, and Teyla, and he was sure that was Kanaan behind her, but he didn't know the two tall men standing on either of side of them.

Ronon pointed to them. "Torren and Ingram, and their partners over here."

There was too much for Radek to absorb. The image trembled before him. Ronon flicked it off and pulled Radek to his chest. They rested there, breathing quietly. At last, Radek sat up and took a deep breath. "Why now?" he said.

"McKay figured something out," Ronon said. A smile kept erupting; he was genuinely happy, Radek saw, even excited. "We were hoping -- I wanted -- if you want, we can go."

"McKay?" Karel interrupted. He sat forward in his chair, looking intently at Radek and Ronon. "Rodney McKay? Ronon Dex -- I know that name. Radku, what's going on? I thought it was all gone? That everyone was dead?"

"I can go back?" Radek asked Ronon, barely hearing Karel.

"Right now, if you want."

" _Strejda_ ," Karel said insistently. "Radku!"

"It's all right, Karel. I'm not going to disappear this very moment." Radek looked at Ronon. "I have an interview to do."

Ronon looked at him, and Radek felt something he hadn't for many, many years. He reached up and lightly touched Ronon's lips. "I never married," he said again, almost whispering.

Ronon took his fingers, kissed them. "I'm glad."

"Radku," Karel said again, and this time Radek looked at him.

"It is all right, nephew," he said. "You must be happy for me. Please call your sister. I want you both here for the interview.

"But you," he said to Ronon.

"No interview!" Ronon said firmly. "I'll come back when it's over."

"No, no, I'm not letting you go. You can hide here. Have something to eat."

Karel came over to where they sat and knelt in front of Radek. "You're going back, aren't you."

Ronon started to move away, but Radek tugged him back. "Yes, of course. I've wanted this all my life. I never thought I'd have this chance."

Karel stared at him, and then slowly nodded. "You know Reina and I will take care of everything."

"I know. And I expect a _festschrift_ after I'm gone."

Karel shook his head. "You're incorrigible." He gestured toward Ronon. "Will he be safe, where you're taking him? Can he come back if he doesn't like it?"

"McKay'll figure something out. But he'll be fine." Ronon settled his hand more firmly on Radek's shoulder. Karel watched them and nodded. Then he stood.

"I'll call Reina now and make sure she gets here soon. There's less than an hour until the television crew arrives to start setting up the library. You might want to, uh --" he gestured meaninglessly. "Uh."

"You call Reina," Radek agreed. "Ronon and I will talk."

When Karel had left the room, Radek said, "Is it just a coincidence you arrive today? Where have you been?"

"Around. I had some things to pick up, stuff to do. McKay gave me a list." He rolled his eyes. Then he quieted, leaned forward, and brushed his nose against Radek's temple. "Good to see you again."

Radek inhaled sharply. "Yes, yes," he said, and lifted his face. "Now. I think I hide you in my bedroom."

Ronon grinned ferociously. "Yeah, okay." He stood up, pulling Radek with him. "But first," he added. He cupped Radek's face in one hand, thumb stroking his cheekbone. Radek stood on his toes and hesitated, but Ronon bent down to kiss him, for the first time in over thirty years.

* * *

"Thank you, Doctor Zelenka, for finding the time to meet with us today," the young woman said. She had short blonde hair and wore a red blazer; Radek thought she looked like every woman he'd ever seen on the news. "So, what is your goal for this interview?"

Radek shrugged. "I want to provide context for the news reports that have been coming out recently about Atlantis."

"Atlantis. The Lost City," she said, and smiled at him. He waited for a question. When he didn't respond, she said, "You were part of the original expedition, which meant when you left Earth you didn't know if you'd ever return."

He nodded, still waiting for a question.

"Atlantis is truly gone now; you saw it destroyed from the _Daedalus_ , I believe?" He nodded again. "Was it worth the risks?"

He tried not to smile. "Of course. The work I have done since I returned has pushed physics and mathematics in new directions, and I can honestly say that how physics is taught in schools has been changed because of it."

"But all the dangers you faced, your narrow escape -- it's a miracle you're here. I can't help but think that the fact the US government is only now releasing information about Atlantis, the cost of the expedition, the kind of people we lost, is in itself an indication of how huge a loss it was. Otherwise why wait almost three decades?"

Radek said dryly, "I understand the Freedom of Information Act had something to do with the timing."

She said, "That only supports my contention that the loss was so enormous that the government felt it had to hide it."

"The loss was enormous," Radek agreed. "No one would say otherwise. But we gained very much: knowledge of other peoples, how to prepare for life so far from Earth, and of course, most importantly to me, the scientific knowledge."

"Which you brought back in databases, yes?"

"Yes, as much as I could, given the time I had."

"So, Doctor Zelenka, was it worth it to you personally? If you had the choice today, would you take it? Would you go to Atlantis?"

Now Radek did smile at her, thinking of Ronon in his bedroom, of Rodney and John and all the others waiting for him. "Oh, yes," he said. "I would leave this very minute."


End file.
